The Long Awaited Game
by bluevestige
Summary: After earning four titles only in his twenties, Touya Akira didn't think he would find anyone who would match his strength, until an eighteen-year-old boy challenged him. AU where Shindou and Touya didn't meet until later in Touya's life.
1. The Long Awaited Game

**Title:** The Long-Awaited Game  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not mine. Obata-sensei and Hotta-sensei own all.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> After earning four titles only in his twenties, Touya Akira didn't think he would find anyone who would match his strength, until an eighteen-year-old boy challenged him.  
><strong>Note: <strong>AU where Shindou and Touya didn't meet until later in Touya's life.

* * *

><p>Touya Meijin greeted Ichikawa-san as he stepped into the Go salon.<p>

"Touya-sensei," Ichikawa-san greeted, her once young and uninhibited smile now matured into something warm and motherly ever since her engagement. "You got back early."

Akira remembered the days when she used to call him, "Akira-kun," and would buy him ice-cream and pat his back whenever he had a particularly bad day, or sneak him some candy when he stopped by after school, even though Akira had insisted that he was too old for it (he was seven). Akira was definitely too old for that now, but there were old remnants he would like to keep. "Please, just 'Akira' is fine," he said. She had known him and had taken care of him way too long for formalities.

"Akira-kun," her smile grew brighter at his words. "How was your game today?" She asked, more out of politeness than true inquiry, since in her mind Akira-kun would never lose.

Her assumption was correct. "Kurata-7 dan played very well," Akira said courteously. He didn't need to voice the fact that he had won by a large margin, again. There had not been a true challenge to Touya Akira since he had surpassed his father.

Akira knew that he was going to go high, up to a place where no one in the Go world right now could reach, but not high enough to achieve what he truly wanted. All of the games that he had played so far, with the exception of his father's and Kuwabara-Honinbou's, had been unsatisfying, lacking in something that Akira didn't yet understand, but knew that he was searching for.

"How is Shimane-san?" Akira asked, preventing himself from straying too far into his own thoughts. He was glad that Ichikawa-san finally found someone that made her happy. They were going to get married in June, a nice, small summer wedding.

Akira smiled as Ichikawa-san began to retell a story involving her fiancé, their cat, and the wedding planner. It was nice to see her doting less on him and more on her own life. Ichikawa-san had done so much for him that he didn't know if he'd ever repay her enough. She was a sister that he'd never had.

"Ah!" Ichikawa-san clasped her hands. "There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?" Akira asked, more out of habit than of curiosity. Aside from Go professionals, customers, reporters, and some occasional brave fans, Akira didn't expect anyone else.

"It's a boy," and here Ichikawa-san bit her lips to hold back a laugh. "He wants to challenge you to a game."

"Is he an Insei?" Akira asked, not interested. It wasn't everyday that random children challenged him, for there was always a sense of respect and fear that came with the age gap and Akira's titles. He looked at the clipboard of customer sign-in, seeing the only name in a chidish scrawl, one that wasn't a regular customer.

_Shindou Hikaru_. Unranked.

"No, he isn't," Ichikawa-san said. "But he is quite insistent that he must play a game against you."

"I see," Akira said. Why not? He had a free afternoon; he could indulge in a simple game today.

"He's in the back, at your favorite table," Ichikawa-san said, and Akira immediately headed there, not catching the last of her words. "But Akira-kun, he—"

Akira caught the sight of a young boy with loud blond bangs and an even louder orange jacket, sitting hunched over the goban on Akira's favorite table. The boy barely looked eighteen—his limbs were too gangly, his cheeks too round, and if Akira had to make an assessment, he would say that the boy probably had no idea what to do with a goban. Nevertheless, Akira understood that an opponent couldn't be judge through anything but a game.

At Akira's approach, the boy snapped his head to look at him. "Touya!" he jerked upright in his chair, then, realizing how rude he sounded, he quickly corrected himself. "Touya Meijin," he ducked his head. "My name is Shindou Hikaru."

"It's nice to meet you, Shindou-san," Akira said gently, although Shindou's recent outburst sent warning bells in his head. He took a seat across from the boy and offered a smile. "I heard that you've come to challenge me to a game." Akira kept the amusement from his tone, even though it was difficult.

"Y-yes," Shindou nodded.

"Shall we?" Akira opened his goke, and, seeing that it was black, passed it to Shindou. "How many handicaps would you like?"

"Umm, actually, I would like to play an even game," Shindou scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know that you're the Meijin and all, but, ummm, I really want an even game. Against you. I mean, you're only a few years older than me—" he trailed off.

"I see," Akira said, and it was even harder to keep down his amusement now. "How old are you, Shindou-san, may I ask?"

"I'm turning eighteen this fall," Shindou replied.

Akira was in his twenties. Nevertheless, age was not comparable to experience. Akira managed to defeat many opponents twice his age, and still held on to his four titles against them.

"Alright," Akira said. "Nigiri?"

"Yes!" Even with his oddities, Akira had to give the boy credits when it came to enthusiasm.

Shindou got black, and they proceeded with the game.

Akira noted that Shindou played a strong opening, although his joseki was a bit outdated. However, despite his old-style, several moves were more in tune with the current style, as if Shindou was playing the classics with a modern twist.

Interesting.

Shindou played surprisingly well for someone his age. His Go was shaky, but confident; wild, but effective. If Akira had to guess, he would say that Shindou was at the level of a 4-dan.

That was, until Shindou placed a mistake in the upper right territory.

Akira was disappointed. He had expected better from this boy, but perhaps he had been hasty in judging his abilities. Unluckily for Shindou, Akira wasn't one to go easy on anyone. He quickly attacked that spot of weakness, unrelenting in his aggression. The game continued with Akira ahead by five moku, and Akira calculated that the gap will widen once they reached mid-game, and this match wouldn't even reach yose, even though Shindou's ability to stand his ground was quite impressive.

Then, just as quickly and unexpectedly as he had jumped into Akira's life, Shindou saved the cluster of stones that Akira thought was going to die in two moves, and quickly close the gap between the two of them. Akira responded, but Shindou finally bared his fangs, shredding his camouflage and revealed his true strength.

_It was a trap_, Akira realized with a shaky breath. A very well constructed one, hidden deep in the board since the beginning of the game and slowly gaining strength over time, feeding gradually from Akira's overconfidence until it was strong enough to maul Akira's neck. Akira felt his hands shaking in shock and excitement, as Shindou placed his next move, his Go morphing into the predator that it truly was.

This.

This was the game that Akira wanted to play, the game that Akira had been waiting to play. This thrill of battle had been missing in all of his games so far. Whoever Shindou Hikaru was, he was the opponent that Akira was waiting for. He studied the boy in front of him, taking note of his intense expression, eyebrows furrowing and eyes dark, and thought that perhaps Shindou would grow into the rival that Akira had always wanted.

Akira's Go growled back, challenging Shindou to come after him again. Shindou prowled around Akira before launching forward for another attack, but Akira wasn't going to let Shindou catch him by surprise a second time. Akira swiped back with a swift move of his claw, taking away a part of Shindou's territory, but Shindou quickly hopped back on his feet and went for Akira's throat again. Shindou was too hasty in going for the kill this time, because Akira had anticipated his attack and quickly responded with a clean cut in Shindou's upper left. Shindou suffered great damage, but Akira knew that he wouldn't give up so easily, and, just as he expected, Shindou wiped the blood dripping at the corner of his mouth and struck again.

In the end, Shindou lost by four and a half moku, not an unusual margin when Akira played with other opponents, but...

Akira felt his breaths and his heart still racing fast with the adrenaline from the game as he studied the board, black and white clashing in the fiercest battle he had ever played. His eyes traced the path of each stone, relived each second of the battle well-fought, and knew that he was willing to replay this game over and over again.

A sudden movement from Shindou snapped Akira out of his thoughts. "Thank you so much for the game," Shindou bowed hastily before rising abruptly on his feet, knocking his chair over as he did so. "You completely went above me." There was something in his voice, something like disappointment and a tinge of self-loathing. "I don't deserve to play this game."

"That's not true," Akira clenched his fists. "Why don't we—"

"I'm sorry, Touya-sensei, for wasting your time," Shindou turned away from Akira.

"Wait!" Akira said. "We haven't discussed the game." They had to discuss this game. Akira needed them to discuss this game.

"There's nothing to discuss, Touya-sensei," Shindou said, bangs covering the emotions in his eyes from Akira. He backed away from the table. "I really should have known—it really should have been him who plays you instead."

Shindou wasn't making any sense. They had played a good game, an excellent game. Shindou had played brilliantly, not more skilled than many pros, but definitely more special.

"Wait!" Akira rose to his feet, and that was Shindou's cue to run toward the entrance. "I'd really like to play another game with you!" That made Shindou paused momentarily, but before Akira could get close to the boy, Shindou bolted, scrambling past Hirose-san and out of the door.

Akira went after him, going past Hirose-san. "I'm sorry, Hirose-san," he said quickly before pushing through the door. Akira rushed to the street, glancing back and forth for the familiar blond bangs and loud orange jacket, heart racing.

But the boy was gone.

Akira scanned through the crowd of pedestrians, frantically searching for the boy but finding nothing. He was gone, just like that, leaving nothing behind but a name.

Damn it.

Akira let out an angry breath. If only he had been quicker, if only he had stopped Shindou before he managed to get away….

Akira walked back into the salon, feeling dejected. He could feel the other patrons' eyes on him, knowing that he had made a scene, but he couldn't muster the will to care at the moment. That boy—that Go that he wanted to fight against—had escaped from his grasp.

Shindou Hikaru.

Who was he?

Ichikawa-san gave him a worried look, but Akira ignored it in favor of gripping the sign-in clipboard tightly, staring at the one name on the paper as if it would give him answers.

"Akira-kun, what happened?" Ichikawa-san asked gently.

Akira didn't answer her. He suddenly felt younger than his age, wanting to throw a tantrum, but restrained himself from doing so because he was old enough to control his emotions. It was the first time that Akira had ever felt so young, so energetic, like a child chasing another in a game of tag. He tightened his grip on the clipboard, feeling the plastic digging painfully into his palm.

"The game—" Ichikawa-san said slowly as if she was afraid that bringing it up would upset Akira again.

"He lost," Akira said flatly. But it was a brilliant game.

"Oh, of course," Ichikawa-san said, still looking unsettled with Akira's answer. "It is his first time playing, after all, and to think that he wanted to challenge Akira-kun—"

A heavy slam made Ichikawa-san jerked in surprise and momentary fear. The entire salon became completely silent, all eyes on Akira, who had just slammed the clipboard against the counter.

"His. First. Time. Playing," Akira said each word with such fervor that Ichikawa-san had to take a step back.

"Akira-kun?"

"Ichikawa-san," Akira hid his eyes behind his bangs. "Are you sure?"

"Y-yes," Ichikawa-san said. "He said that this is going to be his first game. I tried to stop him from challenging you, but—" She trailed off, eyes widening in concern as Akira's shoulders began to shake. "Akira-kun?" She was worried. Akira-kun, in all of the years that she had known him, had never acted this way before. "Is everything al—" But she couldn't finish her sentence, because...

Because Akira was shaking in excitement.

There was a fierce look in his eyes, a frightening fire that Ichikawa-san had never seen on him before, not even in title matches, not even against his father or Kuwabara-Honinbou or Ogata-san. Whoever this Shindou Hikaru was, Ichikawa-san knew that he was special.

Akira clenched and unclenched his fists.

Shindou Hikaru.

_I will find you._

* * *

><p>End of chapter 1.<p>

Chapter 2 preview: "What do you mean you can't play anymore?"


	2. The Intent to Kill

Chapter 2: The Intent to Kill.

* * *

><p>It must have been disappointing for Touya Meijin as it had been for Hikaru.<p>

Hikaru knew that it was foolish to approach Touya Meijin and challenged him to a game given the giant gap of ability between them, but he had made a promise to Sai that, should he decide not to attempt the path of a Go professional, he would play at least one game against Touya Akira.

If Sai wanted Hikaru to see the vast difference between a pro and an amateur, then nothing demonstrated this better than a thorough beating from Touya Akira.

Even worse was the fact that Hikaru now understood how out of league he was with the young Meijin; even if he became a pro, there was no way he could catch up to a man of that level. If Hikaru moved forward, Touya would move even further ahead. Hikaru could feel the giant barrier between them with every move on the goban. He shivered as he recalled the intensity of the game, the way Touya Meijin's Go dominated the board from the get go and continued to slaughter Hikaru's mercilessly, cutting off every attack with a grace that would rival Sai in precision and beauty.

Worst of all, Hikaru had hoped that, in playing his own Go against someone besides Sai that….

Well, it didn't matter anymore because he didn't win. There was nothing left in Go for Hikaru, not skills, not victories, not…

Not Sai.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't win for Sai. There was no point in playing if he couldn't even win.

"Hikaru," Akari walked up to him after class, and Hikaru didn't even have the strength to talk to her right now. He knew what she was going to say. "Let's go! I don't want to be late for practice."

"No," Hikaru said, pretending that all of his attention was in putting his books back into his bag. He couldn't meet her eyes. "I'm not going."

"What? Hikaru!" Akari crossed her arms. "We're not going to win the first round if our first board is slacking off again." Akari knew that was a complete lie because Hikaru was a genius when it came to Go. There was a frightening strength about him, a power that felt dangerous and old, even older than Grandfather.

"I never slack off in Go," Hikaru protested.

"You didn't come to practice yesterday," Akari pointed out. Come to think of it, Hikaru didn't look well. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. He didn't seem fine yesterday either, but he had left so fast after class, saying that he had something important to do, that she didn't have the chance to ask him what was wrong. "Did…did you manage to do what you wanted to do yesterday?"

Hikaru turned sharply away from her, and Akari flinched at his sudden movement.

"No," Hikaru had his back to her. "I failed."

"Oh Hikaru," Akari said. She wanted to ask what he was trying to do yesterday, why he skipped Go club meeting yesterday afternoon, but she was afraid of upsetting him. "It'll be—"

"I'm going home," Hikaru said, not wanting to hear Akari's pity.

"But what about Go club?" Akari asked frantically. This was wrong. Go always made Hikaru feel better. For Hikaru to not want to play Go—

"I can't play anymore," Hikaru walked to the classroom door, paying no heed to Akari's sharp intake of breath.

"What do you mean you can't play anymore?" Akari raised her voice, panic and worry clenching her heart. Hikaru always wanted to play Go. Whenever he was upset, she would ask him for a game; even though she knew that she'll never win, his smile and his gloating were worth it. It was the one of the only ways she knew to be a good friend.

"I just can't, okay?"

"Hikaru!"

"I can't play Go anymore!" Hikaru shouted, and Akari froze in shock. "I just—I can't." His voice grew weaker, and Akari could hear a sharp melancholy that hung on his words and draped over his back.

"Hikaru," Akari approached him slowly, placing a hand at his shoulder. She didn't know what to do. Even though they were childhood friends, Akari felt as if she understood as much about Hikaru as she did when she first met him. "What happened yesterday?" She whispered gently, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze.

Akari could feel Hikaru's shoulder tensing under her palm.

"I had to play a game against someone," Hikaru said so softly that Akari almost didn't hear him. "I lost."

Akari could tell that it wasn't the whole story. Even though she couldn't read Hikaru as well as she would like to, she knew that the loss was more than just one loss. "There…there were more at stake than just a victory, weren't there?"

At her words, Hikaru jerked from her touch, as if Akari had just slapped him.

"Hikaru!" Akari called out as he bristly walked away from her. She jogged to catch up to him, but he flinched away from her, breaking into a run.

"Hikaru!"

Akari tried to catch up to him again, but all she could see was the image of his disappearing back, an apparition growing fainter and fainter among the crowd of students, going further and further into a place that she couldn't possibly reach.

* * *

><p>The first thing Ogata said when he sat next to Akira was: "You seem unusually cheerful today."<p>

"Do I?" Akira said, tearing his eyes from his father's game against Kurata 7-dan to look at Ogata. It was ending anyway. "I don't feel any different."

Even though Akira was no longer a part of his father's study group, he still enjoyed the weekly game discussion at his parents'. Different Go professionals came every week, itching to play against his father now that he was retired and had more time for casual games. Ogata Ouza came weekly as well, and Akira took this opportunity to study Ogata's techniques up close, for Akira planned to challenge him for his title the following year.

"Did something good happen?" Ogata asked, and Akira immediately thought of Shindou.

Ogata pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, light glinting on one of the lenses, and Akira's own face stared back at him in the other. Not that it would have made a difference if Akira could see Ogata's eyes or not; Ogata was an extremely difficult person to read on and off the goban. Akira felt younger than his years being scrutinized by Ogata, but as he was no longer a child, and as he grew used to the calculating eyes of opponents twice his age, Ogata's piercing intimidation was nothing on him.

(Akira also added in his mind that Kuwabara Honinbou was far superior to Ogata when it came to mind games, but decided not to. Best to leave the mind games to its players. He wasn't interested.)

Akira contemplated telling Ogata about Shindou, but reservations held him back. Ogata grew less of a mentor to Akira and more into a sly opponent, an incarnation of Kuwabara Honinbou, but without the sharp edge that came from experience and intuition. Akira wasn't a person who cared for mind games, and he sure wasn't going to get into one.

"I've played a good game last week," Akira said, and decided to leave it at that.

"Oh?" Ogata raised his eyebrows. "Someone's skill caught the attention of Touya Meijin?"

"I keep a cautious eye on all current and rising Go players, Ogata-san," Akira replied, tastefully dodging Ogata's question and taking note to be courteous at the presence of other professionals in the room.

Ogata's eyebrows, if possible, rose higher. "Rising Go players? Interesting. I remember you telling me once that you're only looking up because there is nothing behind worth paying attention to."

"Ah," Akira said, feeling slightly embarrassed and at a loss of what to say because he didn't know how to justify something that he had said when he was a teenager, but thankfully, his father spoke. "Akira was a green player then. Years of experience had taught him a lot, Ogata-san."

Ogata usually backed off immediately when his father was involved, a sense of respect preventing Ogata from pushing beyond his boundaries. However, over the years, Akira was not the only one who grew out of his younger self. "Of course, he earned four titles despite being so young, after all," Ogata said. "To keep those titles is another matter."

If there was a gibe about Akira's age, then Akira pretended not to hear it. He smiled politely and let Ogata's comment walked past him. He knew that Ogata wanted to get a rise out of him, and even though he was fonder of his old mentor than many other professionals, Akira wouldn't let Ogata have the satisfaction of seeing his composure crack.

To keep his titles. Ogata had managed to keep his two titles for as long as he had earned them, but Akira had just earned his recently.

Akira resisted the urge to clench his fists.

"Maybe I should take a page out of Touya Meijin's book and watch out for rising players too," Ogata said, the reflection of the room flashing on his glasses made it difficult for Akira to read the emotion in his eyes.

Akira kept his palms flat against his thighs and said nothing. Ogata might not know what was going on, but judging from his words, he might have an idea of what Akira was hiding.

"The rising players?" Kurata 7-Dan joined their conversation after putting away the Go stones. The game ended, as expected, with his father's victory. "Is there somebody to watch out for?"

Before Akira could answer, Ashiwara replied. "Not that I know of. The incoming pros this year are at the same level as the one from the years before."

"How disappointing," Kurata said. "Nothing else exciting came after the New Wave."

"There was no such thing as 'The New Wave,'" Ogata crossed his arms. "The only notable player that year was Akira."

"There were a lot of brilliant incoming players that year," Ashiwara protested. "I thought Isumi-san, Waya-san, and Ochi-san were great players."

"But to call them the New Wave that would bring back the glory of Go to Japan was a bit too much," Kurata rubbed his chin. They all knew the article in Go Weekly that Kurata was referencing: an empty promise, a long forgotten dream. "I mean, Akira-kun completely overshadowed them."

All chuckled lightly at the memory except for Akira, who felt no need to be amused. Akira remembered the period of time after he passed the pro examination, there was a burst of fresh players that were thought to bring Japan back to its former Go glory, Akira included. However, Akira surpassed them all with amazing speed, and, years after, was so ahead that none from that generation could catch up to him. The so-called New Wave quickly splintered, and the Hokuto Cup marked the end of its era, if it could even be called an era.

Akira refused to feel guilty at the disintegration of the New Wave. It was not his fault that the players weren't strong enough.

"Akira-kun?" Ashiwara's voice snapped Akira out of his reverie.

"Yes?"

"What do you think about the new players this year?" Ashiwara asked.

"I have to be cautious of all players, Ashiwara-san," Akira said tactfully. He didn't mean so much the players passing the pro exam this year, but the existence of one Shindou Hikaru.

"Hmmmm," Ogata hummed in amusement next to Akira. Ogata was probably one of the only people beside his father who knew when Akira was not telling the whole story.

"Well-said," Ashiwara smiled. "I really can't let my guard down with any player, new or not."

"Hmmm, if even Touya Meijin is looking back, I guess I should keep an eye at the back of my head as well," Kurata said thoughtfully. "I still think that the new players are nothing to worry about, but I can't really judge their skills this early in the season."

All made a noise of agreement, except for Akira, his father, and Ogata.

"May I ask for a game, Akira-kun?" Ogata asked.

"Of course," Akira answered.

They settled across each other on the goban. Akira got white. The last time he played against Ogata was the final match for the Honinbou title, where he got black and lost spectacularly. Akira still remembered Ogata's words back then, after the game, still remembered his pale, hardened expression and Ogata's unreadable one reflected on the steel doors of the elevator. Ogata had said….

"_Within the small difference in ability, wins are often decided by the mental make-up. Drive and motivation make a large difference. But right now…_

…_you're not even worth beating."_

"Onegaishimasu."

"Onegaishimasu."

Not even worth beating.

Akira raised his eyes to shoot Ogata a challenging look. He felt a satisfaction curling in his gut when a fleeting shock flashed across Ogata's face.

Akira looked at the black stone on the board. Ogata's first move.

Akira thought of Shindou, of the game that felt like a battle to the death, of the Go that he wanted to fight against, of his own Go that he wanted to play. Shindou had sat across Akira, knowing how powerful Akira was, perhaps even knowing that he wasn't going to win. Shindou had wanted to play an even game against Akira, had wanted to fight until the end even though Akira was twisting the sword at the heart of his stone formation. Shindou had wanted to defeat him with a fervent passion that brought the goban to life, that awakened the lion within Akira's own Go from its slumber.

It wasn't enough, Akira realized. All of the games that he had played, the victories that he had gained, the titles that he had earned…all of that were not enough.

He couldn't play like the way he had before; he had to play better. Even though he was getting stronger day by day, he was still lacking something.

_Not even worth beating._

Akira now understood what Ogata meant.

_Not even worth beating._

_Not anymore_, Akira thought, as his hand shot out, and, like a struck of lightning, sent his white stone down with a resounding _Pa-Chi_. _Just watch me._

_Shindou._

_I'm right here._

* * *

><p>"Akira-kun sure is amazing," Ashiwara said as Ogata weaved through the late afternoon traffic. "Aren't you nervous about defending your title against him next year?"<p>

Ogata held back an irritated growl and replied with calmness that he didn't feel. "No." The game that he had just played against Akira was still fresh in his mind, only half a moku difference, but Ogata felt like it was a vaster gap than that, and he couldn't figure out why.

Not at all discouraged by Ogata's taciturn self, Ashiwara continued. "Those moves were amazing. I mean, Akira-kun is an amazing player, but I didn't expect that kind of intense play from him in a casual game."

"There is something different," Ogata agreed. Something about Touya Akira had changed since the last time Ogata had played against him. No—even more recent. Something had changed since last weekend, because the eyes of the Touya Akira across the goban from him this week was not the same eyes of the Touya Akira last week.

However, it wasn't until he got home and recreated the match that Ogata realized what was bothering him. The whole time they were playing, Akira had the intent to kill. It wasn't just a mere game to him; it was a war. One battle in an incoming series, a single stepping stone in something far greater than one mere victory, grander than Akira's goal of ripping Ogata's title from him next year.

"Hmmm," Ogata took a deep drag of his cigarette.

A long exhale followed.

"The Go world just became more interesting."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 2.<strong>

Chapter 3 preview. "How—how did you find me?"

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong>

Thank you so much to everyone who had read, reviewed, and favorited this fic. I was shocked to check my inbox yesterday and find so many alerts and support from so many people, especially since I didn't expect my fic to be liked, ahaha. I apologize for not replying to the reviews individually because I kept getting "Oops! We cannot find this page on .net" whenever I clicked on the reply URL. (Does anyone know what I could do to solve this?)

There were various questions and concerns that I saw from the reviews, and I want to answer them:

1) "Is this fic finished or a work in progress?"

This is a WIP. I am intending to write more of this universe.

2) "I get the impression that Sai is still with Hikaru, due to the comment about "let him play" Touya. Still, if Sai is, but Hikaru is considering that he should have let him play, that would mean that Hikaru has been playing against Sai all this time, which doesn't quite match his claim of being the first game played."

Sai is not with Hikaru when Hikaru played against Akira. It is not Hikaru's first game, and this is just one example of Hikaru not doing a good job of covering his track and keeping Sai a secret.

3) "So who actually played?"

Hikaru is the one who played against Akira.

Hopefully, these answers clear up some confusion. :)

Also, I've made some changes. I've decided to refer to a character by first/last name depending on whose POV the scene is from. I've also decided to write this fic from multiple POVs (like how you could read multiple thoughts of different people in the manga). I apologize for any confusion this may cause, but I hope that these changes would make the direction of the fic easier to see.

With that said, thank you for reading.


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